Man when Dany is on, he is on. Incomparable in profile and a cobweb slice straight from the rusticity year book, forest ghost brings it back to the mid 2000s ghost game. You get the herbal and mild digestif sort of clove and anise, but there’s a musky Brett C and funk to it like the boot section of a thrift store, grist and must, shoveling out the anabolic piss from the thoroughbred stables.

It is lightly acidic but maintains a ton of depth and poise, epee in hand on those ethereal balls of the feet slashing out morels and a bit of oxidized sweetness. Nothing is like this, and years from now we will lament not embracing the Prignon era while we had a crypt full of phantasms. Prolly gonna get that tome ghost tatted on my ass cheek someday not GNA lie

How he do this shit?